A Precious Gift from Primus
by Shenko007
Summary: Ironhide wasn't a sentimental being, but when Primus gives him a gift in the form of Novastrike, he gives in to his feelings and shows Novastrike, formerly known as William Lennox before his death, just how much he loves him.


**A/N: This short story is dedicated to ChaosGarden, who was the 100th signed reviewer to my transformers fic, _To Lose Another._ Please enjoy this one-shot depicting one of our awesome pairings, Ironhide/Will. **

**Note: This is set in the world of _To Lose Another_ and William became Novastrike after his resurrection. **

A Precious Gift of Primus

It had been a good day. Too much of a good day. Ironhide knew better than to believe that nothing bad happened on a good day. His millenia of experience taught him that and, as he watched his fellow Autobots and humans celebrate with much joy and jubilation after a hard-won victory, there was a nagging sensation of something.

Even the great Autobot Commander, Optimus Prime was drinking, although he sipped his energon drink at a much slower rate than the twins. Much slower for after several hours of carousing and partying, he and Prowl were the only sober ones out of the entire group. At the end of the party, both Prowl and Optimus Prime tucked away their respective bondmates into beds. Jazz held unto Prowl's shoulder for dear life, his optics in a deep haze as he tried to crack a joke with the twins. Sam, on the other hand, was throwing up in the nearest rubbish bin and, with Epps tending to him, sat heavily next to the floor. He refused Epps' help in cleaning himself, having enough lucidity to not want a thirty-six year old hovering over him with a cloth in his hand. Once he cleaned himself off, he blearily looked upwards, at the descending blue and silver servo.

The human boy, Ironhide noticed, had very good instincts. In this case, Sam just knew that it was his lover, Optimus, who offered his hand to him, not Prowl. The Commander and the Tactical Officer shared some of the colours, but only in the servos. Ironhide watched with approving orbs the tall Prime take his small, human lover into his servo and after bidding their friends good night, left the large hangar for their bed.

Their departure thus left the contemplating Weapons Specialist in charge, but no one paid any heed to it, not even the notorious twins who were now aggravating the heck out of the yellow and green hummer, Ratchet.

"Hey, 'Hide," another voice called out to him and Ironhide's HUD showed that it had belonged to his lover. Several months ago, he would have to look downwards to talk to his other partner. Now, though, thanks be to Primus, his eyes leveled with another pair of blue optics from across the room.

After making contact, Ironhide chose to let his optics roam his lover's slender form, which was just breathtaking to the hardened veteran. He had always admired and hated flyers, for the majority of them had allied themselves with Megatron or strictly stayed neutral. Despite that, Flyers were truly amazing pieces of work, clear evidence of the maker's craftsmanship. While each flyer was an individual in his own right, they shared several common features, such as at least one set of wings, aerodynamic streamline for manuvering capabilities even in winds speeds of 200 km/hr, and an innate sense of direction. Thusly, it was to no one's surprise, in the past, that the Decepticons always knew where to fight and where to retreat as well if things weren't going so well for them.

Novastrike had all those features but he had something else too: teleportation. When the flyer first performed this strange talent, he couldn't explain how he did it. All he was aware of was him frantically trying to get to out of an enemy's blast and then reappearing somewhere else. The explanation of course was unsatisfactory to Prime and the rest of the officers, but neither did they force the answer out of their new recruit.

Ironhide, on the other hand, was just glad that Novastrike was safe. He couldn't lose his lover again and while he was grateful that Primus chose to grant him his personal wish, to have Will become an Autobot, the Weapons Specialist knew that Autobots could still die in battle. In fact, it was almost guaranteed.

"Hide, I can hear the gears working inside that head of yours." Novastrike's voice held a hint of amusement. His optics though sparkled in laughter and Ironhide just shook his head. It's best to not look a gift in the horse's mouth or whatever that human was saying.

He reached out for the blue and silver flyer, and then roughly pulled his lover towards him. The sudden move earned him a soft 'ofmph!' from his lover, which then softened into a moan as Ironhide placed his lip plates on top of his partner's. His glossa plunged into hot, wet depths and then provoked its other counterpart into playing and dancing with it. However, the dance soon dissolved into a battle for dominance, and as always, Novastrike gave in, willingly.

When the black mech pulled back, it was to the sight of a panting flyer and Ironhide could hear the air valves work furiously in pulling in as much air as the body needed. To think that a simple kiss could render his lover like this made him smug with pride.

No longer entangled with one another, the two mechs were finally aware of catcalls and several wolf whistles emanating from the drunken crowd of their friends, both human and allies. Even Epps was clapping at the sight. Novastrike's cheeks darkened in embarrassment but Ironhide wanted none of that. He ignored the sounds of approval coming from behind them and kissed his lover soundly again, wringing all thoughts out of the both of them.

"They're fine on their own," Ironhide whispered gruffly in his audio receptor and the husky voice caused shivers to travel down the spine of Novastrike's chassis. "Let's go."

The flyer didn't have time to protest or say anything else for that matter when Ironhide promptly pushed him towards the exit doors. Minutes later, he didn't mind saying anything else either.

-o0o-

The skirmish was not going well at all and Ironhide cursed at having been right about his nagging sensation from the other night. Why did he always have to be right? Couldn't he be wrong for just once? The battle was intense and Starscream's assault grew more frenzied as time passed by, until even Ironhide had to pay more attention.

He ducked underneath a blast that streamed its way to him, threatening to stun him at best or take his head off. He didn't want to take the chance either way.

Unfortunately, he had inadvertently stumbled into a trap for Shockwave's dual cannon shots. The debris had fallen around his foot, thus, trapping him in place. With a cold shiver, Ironhide suddenly realized that Starscream's shots at him were not deliberated at him, but at the trees around him. _The little bastard never misses!_ He struggled to get his foot out all the while trying to fend off an attack from Barricade. For the first time ever, their enemies worked in tandem and Ironhide's optics widened at the realization that they were working to wear him down. He was the Autobots' military arm and if he went down, then so would the Autobots. Optimus Prime could only do so much before his eventual fall too.

He grimaced at the idea of falling in battle and as much as he would love to permanently retire from the war, he didn't want to leave the world just yet. Not when he had finally gotten his sparkmate back from the Matrix itself.

Thus, desperation and a desire to see that adored face of his lover fueled his actions. He shot at the debris around him, trying to weaken the remnants of the trees just a little bit for him to yank his foot out. It took too much time though and just when he despaired at the futility of it all, another mech blurred into being. All too familiar pair of arms wrapped around his chassis tightly and Ironhide suddenly fought against his rescuer. He didn't want to be rescued! Not like this! Now when his lover would suffer for it.

"Stay still, 'Hide," a low voice murmured to him, more out of exasperation rather than frustration. Too quick for his own optics to register movement, Ironhide found himself deposited rather gingerly against a downed Redwood tree. Gentle hands roved over his chassis, looking for wounds that may be life-threatening. When there was none to be found, his rescuer released a soft sigh of relief and a small servo cupped his cheek.

"I'm fine," Ironhide groused at his lover. Novastrike gave him a small smile and the Weapons Specialist felt lip plates brush against his own.

"I know. I'll check you over again once this skirmish is over. Prime could use some air support anyways."

Novastrike's wings were truly a beauty and Ironhide, even in his dazed state, could see how the sun reflected off the blue wings. The silver streaks that ran down the sides of them and down his flanks only made him look even slimmer than he really was, not that Ironhide was complaining about it. As the Weapons Specialist watched how Novastrike leaped into the air, he wondered if maybe Primus was being redundant in giving his lover wings and an ability to teleport.

He spent a few cycles recovering from his dazed state and then launched himself into battle, relishing in the moments of fighting with his lover at his side, or rather above him.

A jorn later, when they celebrated, _again_, there was no nagging feeling to hold the Weapons Specialist back. As he slammed his lover against a closed door which trapped them in his personal berth, nothing held Ironhide back and his relaxed hold on his feelings, his inhibitions, allowed his passion, his deep longing for the flyer, to flow through him.

He drew back from their passionate kiss and groaned at seeing the flushed features of Novastrike. How could he have held himself back? In his human form, Novastrike, or then named William Lennox, was gorgeous. Now, he was absolutely breathtaking.

His face retained some of its angular features, like the strong jaw, the straight nose, and the proud chin of an accomplished warrior. No scars decorated the chassis but Ironhide sensed that his memories as a human had been blessedly transferred into his new form. Ironhide would have cursed out Primus if his lover came back to him but without any memories of their relationship, no matter how deep, how fleeting it was. Novastrike had two antennas that framed the helm and the colours of blue and silver were appropriate for him. Blue for life and silver for nobility, for righteousness and for courage. His arm and leg guards were of a deep blue colour while his main spark chamber was dyed in shiny silver. In summary, just beautiful.

His lover writhed in his firm grasp, as appendages softly teased the tip of one wing. Apparently, wings were highly sensitive and he suddenly wanted to see his lover writhe and squirm in the throes of passion, to hear his name be cried out from those beautiful lip plates.

Denta nibbled on the wiring hidden just below the shoulder guards and the action wrung out a deep groan. Strong servos clutched at his own and Ironhide's glossa slicked over the individual wires, coating them in his lubricants. His own large servos grasped the aft and Novastrike instinctively pulled his legs up, knowing that Ironhide could take his weight.

Ironhide's lip plates locked with those of his lover again and as he distracted his lover, he pulled Novastrike off the wall and managed to carry him all the way to the large berth that lay in waiting for them.

He situated himself between those delicious thighs and ground their crotch plates together. Both moaned as sparks of pleasure ran through them. Their air valves worked furiously as the two teased each other, each touch burning their CPUs, bringing them closer and closer to the threshold of pleasure.

He trailed his glossa down from those tempting lips to the more tempting panels that served as a protective sheath for his spark.

"'Hide! Aahh!" Novastrike was always so expressive. It's one of the things Ironhide loved about his sparkmate. It's what attracted him to the former human in the first place. He would see the human face smile, laugh, and cry. Those soft eyebrows would often furrow whenever the Major would be in deep contemplation. Those supple lips would either quirk upwards in a wry smile or part to let out either a deep laugh or a low cry. It was the same in his newer form and while Ironhide traced the outside of his lover's spark chamber, his appendages played with the jaw, to caress the cheeks, and then rimmed those lip plates. They weren't soft like they would be for a human. Instead, hard but warm metal met his questing digits. Then those lips parted and Ironhide moaned at the wet sensation, the sweet smell of coolant as Novastrike gladly coated his fingers.

His other hand stroked the left flank in soothing movements, causing more jolts of pleasure to surge through his lover's lithe form. When the Weapons Specialist deemed his fingers wet enough, he gently extricated them, already missing the wet caverns. His right hand then trailed down lightly before dipping themselves in an open valve that was tucked away behind the protective crotch plate.

"...Hide..." his lover sighed and he heard his lover release a high-pitched moan, almost a yelp when he pushed the fingers in deeper, playing with the sensitive nodes and wires. He tried to find a certain spot that would instantly bring climax to any mech. He found a particularly hard wire, one that was slighter thicker than the rest and when he pinched it, the valve suddenly grew very wet, as lubricants leaked out of it and coated his hand. A sharp, almost pained cry emitted from his lover and Novastrike's form jerked beneath him. Servos tightened their hold on him and Ironhide grunted as the tops of the digits dug painfully into his own shoulders. However, seeing this, hearing his lover shout out his name in pleasure was worth the slight stinging. The sounds were addictive though and it made Ironhide's own spike throb. He had to let it out. Holding it inside him was almost painful.

"Spread'em," he ordered in a husky tone. Novastrike did as he was told. He made a good soldier and one of the reasons was his instant obedience. Perhaps, Ironhide should try cuffing him next time.

Pleased to see the legs spread for him, he hooked them around his waist and when his lover caught unto that idea, Ironhide leaned forward and slowly let his shaft grow into his lover's valve. Hot metal met cool ones and both mechs shuddered at the contact. Novastrike released several pained gasps and Ironhide knew that the first time would always be painful. Just like the first time when the spark chamber was touched.

Once those appendages relaxed, Ironhide deemed that that was the signal for him to move. As he did so, he earned another set of soft moans. Then, Novastrike was urging him onwards, to go faster and harder. He braced his upper weight on his elbows that were placed at his lover's flanks and he nuzzled at the exposed throat. Such passion! Ironhide thought as he began to pound into his lover and soon those soft moans turned into yelps and then hoarse shouts of his name.

He heard someone making low, guttural sounds and was shocked to discover that it was him making those noises. He would have felt self-conscious as he did so with Starblazer, his first lover from almost a millenia ago. In this precious moment though, he didn't mind and found that this act of lovemaking was fast becoming his favourite pastime now.

"Open up for me," Ironhide managed to say in the middle of his grunts and growls. Novastrike gave him a puzzled look. The Weapons Specialist forgot that this was the first act in his Cybertronian form. He ducked his head down, only to trace a hot path around the spark chamber. Hot air blew at the centre and Novastrike gave a strangled moan. His lover must have understood what he meant for there was a low whirring sound followed by a set of soft clicks.

His lover violently shivered as that glossa barely flickered over the cover plate of the spark. The valve tightened around him, causing him to moan in pleasure. Ironhide couldn't take this heat anymore. His chamber opened of its own accord, as if his own spark desired to connect with his mate's. He gingerly placed it on top of his lover's and whiteness covered his field of vision. Harsh cries could be heard and though he didn't see his lover arch his head and back, he clearly felt the sudden rush of lubricants and coolants, the lightning strikes that struck through the both of them.

Ironhide must have offlined temporarily for he was now aware of appendages stroking his helm, the pulsing of the spark below him.

"You ok, hide?" A hoarse voice called out to him in concern. He didn't have the energy to withdraw from his arms. Thus, he only nodded in response. The slow strokes of his lover's appendages were lulling him into sleep but he had to make sure Novastrike was ok.

"Go to sleep," his lover said and Ironhide let out a weak chuckle at how sometimes his lover just stayed human by using human words. The command though was strong. Ironhide's body whined as his systems started to shut down and his last thought before entering a stasis was that he really loved Novastrike, both as a human and a mech. At the other end of their bond, Ironhide felt it pulse in answer and his optics shuttered closed, a satisfied smile gracing his face. Yes, he really owed Primus for this precious gift.

-FIN-

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